Empty Spaces
by lifeinpoetry
Summary: Pacey is hiding a terrible secret from his friends. What will it take to send his life in a down-spiral?
1. Empty Spaces

Empty Spaces

Empty Spaces **Disclaimer:** I don't own the song "Empty Spaces" by Pink Floyd or Pop Tarts. **Note:** This fanfic is based on Pacey and deals with serious issues. It begins after the episode, "The Kiss." 

_What shall we use to fill the empty spaces?  
Where we used to talk?  
How should I fill the final places?  
How should I complete the wall?_ _"Empty Spaces"_ ~ Pink Floyd 

Pacey Witter ran his hand through his hair, carefully inspecting it in the bathroom mirror. He sighed in relief, his hair was back to it's normal brown color. No more "frosted tips" for him. What a waste of forty dollars.

Pacey sank to the floor and sat against the door. _What a day_ he thought. When he had changed his hair color he had been determined to overcome the image of Pacey the loser. At the hair salon he had spotted Kristy Livingstone, blond cheerleader, senior, and had decided to go for her. What the hell did he have to lose? Plenty. Now he sat, defeated, his head in his hands, reliving the shock and humiliation of his conversation with Kristy. He hadn't been in love with her but this latest failure indicated to him that he would always be a loser, he would never be more than that. No matter what he did. _Andie._ Pacey thought her name. Ever since her car had run into his he had been attracted to her. She certainly had a good sense of humor, one that matched his. He would never have thought of a "heart stripe." Behind her attitude he sensed the potential of a good friend and more...but he couldn't believe how she had hurt him, she had no conception of what her revenge had done to his already low self esteem. She had confirmed what his family and Capeside had told him, he was a loser. Pacey frowned. What about his friends? Where were Dawson and Joey? Or Jen? He hadn't seen them in awhile. Certainly not Joey other than a glimpse in the halls. What was with the spaghetti strap shirt? Definately un-Joeylike clothes. They seemed to have magically emerged after she had gotten together with Dawson. And Dawson, he and Dawson hadn't really talked since the day they cut their hair. He was happy for the two but it seemed as if he had become the third wheel. Jen. They had never been really good friends but Pacey realized that they had a common goal: to change from the person they once had been. Not that it seemed to do any good. "Pacey. Get the hell out of the bathroom!" his father yelled, "Before I beat the shit out of you! Other people need to use it too!" Pacey sank down further against the wall and closed his eyes. *** The next morning Pacey got up and quickly dressed after taking a shower. _Today's my sixteenth birthday_ he thought, _at least I'll get some acknowledgement from somebody._ He went to the kitchen, maybe his mom had made breakfast. No. The kitchen lay silent and empty. Disappointment flooded through him, she had forgotten his birthday...again. He walked over to his parent's room and saw her huddled on the bed, a bottle held loosely in one hand. She looked up, her eyes bloodshot, her hair falling around her shoulders in dirty clumps. "P-P-Pacey?" she said. "Hey, mom," he said softly, then fled to the safety of the kitchen. His mother's drinking problem was a secret that none of his friends knew, a secret he had kept since the 5th grade. Not even Dawson knew and definately not Joey. They never went into the house, he had always claimed that it was because of Doug, but it wasn't, it was because of her. He hid her from them like she was something to be ashamed of. A long time ago when they were little kids they had seen her all the time, before she had begun to drink, turning to the bottle for the comfort she didn't receive from her husband. Pacey felt disgust, not toward her but towards himself. He couldn't face his mother, he couldn't try to help her. Every time he tried he would always end up fleeing from her. Pacey got some milk and warmed up a Pop Tart. He quietly ate his breakfast in the silent kitchen. Doug walked by Pacey and out the door. Without glancing back he called out, "Pacey. Don't you dare steal the truck again!" It wasn't as if he had expected anything else from Doug but Pacey felt worse. He grabbed his backpack and stalked out the door. He tried to open the truck but the door was locked, then the piercing sound of an alarm filled the air. _Shit_ he thought. Then jumped onto his bike and got out of there as fast as he could. _I'll hear about this when Dad get's home from work. Isn't that going to be fun?_ *** As Pacey arrived at school he saw Dawson walking toward him and jumped off the bike, letting it crash to the ground. "Hey, Pacey. What's up?" Dawson said. Before Pacey could answer he said, "Pacey. What do you do if you found out something about a girl you never knew before?" Pacey's heart sank. Dawson, his best friend, had forgotten his birthday. Great. It looked like nobody was going to remember. And what was it with him suddenly becoming the person to ask advice from? "You must be talking about Joey. Well, Dawson, you deal with it." He definately did not want to talk about Dawson's problems right now. They seemed to so small in contrast to his own, and he never was begging Dawson for advice every three seconds. Come on, Dawson had to learn to face his own problems eventually. Dawson sighed, seemingly oblivious to his friends lack of enthusiasm. "But it's as if she's a whole different person from the one I know." Pacey's temper rose. Why the hell should he help Dawson? It was obvious that they weren't as good friends as he thought. Dawson couldn't even remember his birthday. "God, Dawson! JUST DEAL WITH IT! Some people have bigger, more serious problems than yours!" Dawson seemed to actually see Pacey for the first time that day, and was shocked at Pacey's outburst. "What's your problem, Pacey? Is it because Kristin Livingstone didn't go out with you?!" "You're way behind Dawson! Don't you know what today is?!" Pacey waited. Dawson opened his mouth, then closed it. "You don't have anything to say to me." Pacey knew he shouldn't have even tried to count on Dawson. "What's up with you?" Dawson asked, looking at his friend strangely. "What's up with me? You want to know what's up with me Dawson?! Today's my fucking birthday and I have not received acknowledgement from anyone. Not even my best friend. All you talk about is Joey and now I wonder if I'm your best friend or advisor. We never talk anymore. I mean really talk, like we used to," Pacey unleashed his anger on Dawson, "Well, you know what Dawson? I'm going to celebrate my birthday with or without your help!" Pacey grabbed his bike and angrily rode off, leaving a shocked Dawson staring after him. *** Pacey rode toward the docks. Why should he go to school anyways? It wasn't as if it was going to help him get out of this stupid town. He slowed as he saw the wooden docks ahead and jumped off. Pacey quickly walked toward the end and saw Jen sitting there, looking out at the water. "Hey, Jen," he said. She looked up, startled. "Oh. Hey, Pacey." He gave her a quick smile and said, "Well, isn't this a coincidence. So, what are your troubles, Jen?" His tone softened, "Is it your grandfather?" His eyes searched hers. "Yes...no. It's my whole life, Pacey. It's completely fallen apart," Jen said, then changed the subject, "So why are you here?" "Well, see I get to school and the first thing Dawson does is talk about his problems, and has completely forgotten the fact that I've just turned sixteen. How's that for a friend?" "Today's your birthday?" Jen asked, surprised. "Whoopee," Pacey said sarcastically. Even Jen didn't know it was his birthday. Well, he wasn't surprised. It wasn't as if his friends thought about him anyways. "I'm sorry Pacey. I didn't know," Jen said, looking apologetic. "That's all right. Anyway, screw Dawson. I'm going to have a big bash without his help." "Pacey...he's got a lot on his mind," Jen said, "he'll make it up to you." "Yeah...well, I have to go." _It figures that Jen is standing up for Dawson. She's totally in love with him._ As he walked away his thoughts drifted toward the party. It was obvious he couldn't have it at home. His father would throw a fit and his mother...well, he didn't want to go into that. He decided it would be on the docks and he was going to invite everyone, he was going to show Dawson and Joey that he had other friends and that he could do fine without them. _Where is Joey?_ he thought, _Oh, yeah, the problem Dawson was talking about._ Then his mind was back on the party. _Hmm...I wonder if Andie will go._ *** Pacey looked at the docks where over a hundred of his classmates danced to the music that filled the air. He was pleased with the outcome of his party. _A loser, this shows I'm no loser, otherwise nobody would have come._ He searched for Andie in the crowd, she had said she might be there. Then he saw Dawson approaching the docks, Pacey walked over to him. "Hey, Pacey," Dawson said, then started talking in a low angry tone, "Pacey. I know it's your birthday and that I forgot. I'm sorry. But you don't have to take it out on me. Just because I made a mistake doesn't mean you have a right to go yell at people. I really wonder, Pacey. I don't know you anymore. And frankly I'm not sure if I ever did." Pacey couldn't believe this. How could Dawson be mad at him? "Dawson, what the hell gives you the right to lecture me? You say you don't know me. Well, have you even TALKED to me seriously about anything other than Joey recently? Our friendship has gone downhill ever since you kissed her. Everythings different now, you've got Joey and our friendship just can compare with what you've got!" He raged at Dawson in a loud angry voice. "Everybody in Capeside's written me off and my best friend in the whole world looks at me the very same way! You're right, you never did know me!" He stormed off. Dawson didn't know him? He sure as hell didn't. Dawson didn't know about his mother, about the drinking, or about the rest of his family. Not that Pacey would have told him but Pacey was beyond thinking about this rationally. _I'm leaving my own party_ he thought _Not that anyone would notice._ He walked home with his hands in his pockets. *** Doug waited for him on the porch, his hands crossed over his chest. He was smirking and shaking his head. "Well it seems like you tried to steal the truck this morning, Pacey. Dad's pissed. And I heard about that party you threw for yourself. Pacey, did you stop to think that nobody went to the party because of your birthday but because they wanted something to do? You'll never be anything more to Capeside than a loser." He grabbed Pacey by the shoulders as he tried to shove past him. "Pacey..." he punched Pacey in the stomach, "that's for screwing up again. About five minutes ago the station called me. It seems that alcohol was confiscated at your little bash. You've humiliated your family in front of the whole town again." He puched Pacey in the stomach again, then strode off. He called back, "So long, little brother." Pacey staggered into the house and fell against the sofa, clutching his stomach. It had taken all his willpower and years of experience from Doug's beatings not to collapse in front of Doug. For a few minutes he rocked back and forth, trying to keep the pain in. As it faded to a tolerable level his mind filled with thoughts of revenge. Pacey sighed. He knew that whatever he did wouldn't make a difference. His father thought Doug was perfect and that Pacey was a complete failure, deserving of Doug's occasional beatings. What Sheriff Witter didn't know was that Doug was gay. It didn't matter. If Pacey tried to tell, his father wouldn't believe him and the consequences would be painful to say the least. Ever since Pacey and Doug were little kids Doug had been the favorite. He had soon had begun to lord this over Pacey, hitting him if he did anything that Doug thought would humiliate the family, which was basically everything Pacey did. Pacey closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch..."Pacey!" his sister Samantha poked her head over the side of the couch, "I heard you had a little party. Why wasn't I invited?" she pouted. "Samantha. You weren't invited because I didn't feel like inviting you. Go away." She was so annoying. His thirteen year old sister seemed to revel in bothering him or pestering him about her social life. "Well, fine then. Pacey you're such a loser." She turned her attention back to the television she had been watching. *** Pacey lay on his bed listening to music in his dark bedroom. Suddenly the door flew open. Pacey covered his eyes as the bright light streaming from the hallway hit them. After a few seconds he took his hand away to see his father illuminated in the doorway, a tall black shadow against the light. "Pacey, you're a disgrace to the family. You need to learn a lesson." Sheriff Witter quickly shut the door behind him and walked across the room. He grabbed Pacey by the arm, his fingers painfully digging into the flesh. "The way I'm going to do this is beating that waste that is lying in my bed. That'll teach you to steal my car, to supply alcohol at a party," he said this in a cold voice, "And you're going to watch." "No!" Pacey cried, he wasn't going to let his father do this. He launched himself at his father, madly trying to punch him. His father was waiting for him and shoved Pacey, hard. Pacey realized that this was what his father had wanted, he had known what Pacey would do. If anything happened to him his father could say it was in self defense. He was Sheriff Witter and nobody would believe anything Pacey said, especially because he had been in trouble so many times. His father gave him a quick punch to the head and Pacey saw stars. He fell to the floor and passed out, the last thing he saw was his father's sweaty face. _To be continued..._

E-mail [Gabrielle][1]

   [1]: mailto:comfortably_numb311@yahoo.com



	2. Hey You

Hey You

Hey You

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the song "Hey You" by Pink Floyd.

**Note:** Sorry it took me a while to upload the second part. I've been busy with school.

_Hey you, out there in the cold  
Getting lonely, getting old, can you feel me?  
Hey you, standing in the aisle  
With itchy feet and fading smiles, can you feel me?  
Hey you, don't help them to bury the light  
Don't give in without a fight_

Hey you, out there on your own  
Sitting naked by the phone, would you touch me?  
Hey you, with your ear against the wall  
Waiting for someone to call out, would you touch me?  
Hey you, would you help me to carry the stone?  
Open your heart, I'm coming home _"Hey You"_ ~Pink Floyd 

Pacey groaned and touched his aching head. A tacky substance came off onto his fingers as a stabbing pain went through his head. _Where am I?_ he thought.

He slowly opened his eyes, finding himself sprawled across the floor of his room. _Why the hell am I on the floor?_ Then the final images of his fathers sweaty face came to mind. Pacey looked at his fingers and found blood smeared on them. Panic quickly filled him. How was he going to hide this? Doug and his father usually opted for hitting him in the stomach, where of course no marks would be made. Or elsewhere on his body but not on his face. Bruises would be incriminating evidence. It would look bad if it was found that Chief of Police Witter physically abused his son. He thought back to yesterday and groaned again. His birthday had always been terrible day, a day his family took great measures to show what a waste he was. But yesterday was the most memorable. First his mom, the only person in his family who ever had cared about him, had forgotten and had gotten so completely wasted she couldn't even get out of bed. He felt so powerless because he didn't know how to help her. It's not like he could send her to Alcoholics Anonymous because his father would give him the worst beating of his life. He didn't know what to do. Then he remembered how Dawson, his supposed "best friend," had forgotten his birthday. What friend would do that? Then like the inconsiderate person Dawson could be at times, he had gotten mad at Pacey. Pacey remembered how he had vented at Dawson. He felt sorry that he had yelled but then he thought back to how Dawson had confronted him at his party. He had spent two seconds on his obviously false apology to Pacey then had held a "bashing Pacey" party. The over-analytical Dawson, the one who spent hours thinking things over, had not even spent the time to think that something other than forgetting Pacey's birthday was wrong. Come on, even an idiot could see something was up. But Dawson who was so wrapped up in his love life had not even noticed. His best friend? Yeah right. And Andie. She hadn't even bothered to come to his party. Looks like she was not going to be a new potential love interest. Great. Pacey knew his social life wasn't the best but since when had he dropped off the end of the earth? He always expected the worst from his family but not his friends. That reminded him. Who the hell did Doug think he was? Besides being a policeman of Capeside he had long ago adopted the role of policeman of the Witter family. Pacey was used to the occasional beatings but why on his damn birthday? Then Doug of course, like the wimp he was, had "told on Pacey" to his father. And his father of course had given him the grandest birthday present of them all. As always Pacey had fallen for his father's poor excuse of goading him, but this time it was Pacey who had thrown the first punch. And he had paid for it, of course. His totalitarian father would never let his son, Pacey the loser, punch him without severe punishment. Pacey had what felt like a broken head along with his already shattered ego.

Pacey staggered to his feet as the pain sent streaks of brilliant white across his vision. Slowly he walked to the bathroom, closed the door, and locked it. A familiar sight greeted him in the mirror, his beaten face. A dark stream of blood had streamed down the left side of his face, surrounding it was a brilliant purple bruise. Oh great. This would take him forever to cover up. Pacey leaned forward and gingerly touched his hair which was standing up in stiff spikes. Presumably from the blood. His father had done quite a job on him.

Taking a washcloth from a drawer he turned on the water and held the washcloth under it for a minute. Then he washed the blood from his face. Again he held the washcloth under the water and watched the faintly red water go down the drain. Tentatively he tried to clean his scalp and in five minutes was done. Thank god. Pacey was relieved when he saw that he would be able to cover up his wound.

His head throbbed as he took out all the necessary things. A box of makeup in a box discreetly labeled as "Tissue," and a well worn issue of Cosmopolitan. Pacey thought back to his long ago conversation with Dawson on Cosmo. He had said, in an almost joking way, "Cosmo is my savior." He had given so many bullshit reasons for reading it but he had only read it to learn to cover the pretty bruises his father gave him. So far all his friends had been fooled. _If they were such good friends they would have noticed_ he thought glumly. Pacey wanted his torn life to go away but when he thought of taking that first, crucial step he felt paralyzed. Somebody would have to take that out of his hands. God, his head hurt.

Pacey took twenty minutes in covering the bruise, when he was done it was little more than a faint shadow. Then he put everything away again then leaned against the door. He bet that Dawson would apologize to him and be his best friend. For about, lets say, two seconds. Then Joey would be there and either would want to "talk to Dawson" or be bitchy, making him feel more like a loser. Then of course he would come back with a sarcastic comment that would set her off and they would argue. A typical day in Pacey Witter's life.

*** 

Pacey slowly walked to ScreenPlay Video. He would have to work alongside a probably apologetic Dawson. Oh god! He wasn't in the mood. Suddenly someone grabbed him by the shoulder as pain seared through his head causing him to stumble.

"Hey Pacey," Dawson said with a tentative smile.

"Dawson," Pacey said through clenched teeth, his eyes unable to focus because of the pain.

Dawson stared at him strangely, "Are you ok? You look kind of out of it."

Pacey gave a short laugh, "Me? Yeah, I'm ok. Couldn't feel better. Just had a little too much at my party."

"Yeah. I heard about the police breaking it up...Look Pacey, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for my selfish behavior and that..."

"Hi Dawson," Dawson was cut off by Joey who stood there in a red tank top and jeans. She glanced at Pacey and offered him a fake smile. "Hey Pacey. We look a little out of it today, don't we?" she said in a sarcastic tone of voice. Then abruptly, without waiting for his comeback she took Dawson's hand, "We need to talk."

Pacey watched as Dawson left with Joey without even a goodbye. He muttered, "Well, Dawson. I guess you weren't that sorry."

*** 

Pacey sat on a chair with his feet propped on the counter. He was bored out of his mind. Apparently nobody wanted to rent movies today. Oh well. The advil had finally kicked in so he had spent the last three hours virtually pain free.

His mind wandered to his earlier conversation with Dawson. He knew something like that would happen. Everyone was so predictable. One minute Dawson was telling him how sorry he was, the next he was leaving with Joey. Typical. It was as if Pacey had become invisible once Joey was there. As the day's passed it seemed as if his existence in the eyes of other people, mainly his friends, seemed to fade. Well, it wasn't like he needed them. They didn't seem to give a damn to what happened to him. As the waves of despair and anger went through him he made a vow to himself _I'm not going to pretend anymore. I'm not going to console Dawson during whatever new "crisis" he's going through or retain any sense of normality in my friendship with Joey. Not until they begin to treat me like a friend. Otherwise, screw them._

The bell rang as somebody burst in through the door. Startled, Pacey snapped out o his reverie. Andie. His low spirits suddenly rose then came crashing down as he remembered her revenge. Andie quickly walked up to the counter and with a sardonic smile said, "Hi Pacey. How's the heart stripe."

He quickly stood up. "Do you need help?" Pacey asked politely.

"Pacey. Hello. It's me, Andie," she stared at him.

Pacey repeated, "Do you need help?" in the same maddeningly polite voice, devoid of emotion. Then as an afterthought, "Andie."

"Oh. I know. You're being childish and pretending not to know me," she continued on, "Get over it already. It was revenge on my part for what you did..." she broke off suddenly and said in a strange voice, "Pacey what's wrong with your head?"

Shit! Pacey's stomach took a sickening leap. What had he done wrong? He had gone through uncountable days of hiding his newest bruises and nobody had ever noticed. He had been careless. What the hell was he going to say?

Andie watched as Pacey froze, his face draining of all color. His eyes which seemed so indifferent before were now far away, as if he wasn't there. Confusion and uncertainty were imminent on his face. Then as quickly as he had gone into that strange trance he snapped out of it.

His face became composed and his eyes blank as he replied in a deadpan voice, "Nothing." The word hung in the air as her brow furrowed.

"But you're bleeding," Andie said in a petulant voice.

Pacey slowly brought his hand to his head. When he took it away he saws fresh traces of blood on his fingertips. Then he forced himself to give a quick, mirthless laugh. "Oh! Uh, yesterday I fell and hit my head. You heard about my party. Right. And um..." Pacey began to babble as his mind raced. Then he saw Dawson walking towards ScreenPlay Video and mumbled, "Bye" to Andie as he quickly escaped out the door.

*** 

Pacey dejectedly walked down the street. He had nowhere to go. Obviously home was out of the question. He kicked a can and sent it skittering across the sidewalk.

"Pacey!" a distant shout carried across the street, "Pacey!" He turned and saw Dawson jogging towards him. When Dawson reached Pacey he stopped and stood gasping for air.

"Yes, Dawson?" Pacey asked once Dawson had regained his breath.

"What's up? Andie told me something was wrong," Dawson said.

For the first time Pacey wondered if he should tell the truth. He could get help and everything would be off his back. His father. Doug. His sisters. His mother could get help. He knew Dawson would listen to him because the matter was so serious. With a few words he could fix everything. "Dawson, yeah. Well, you know, my father he..." Then he stopped and said, "No. Nothings wrong, Dawson," in an exasperated voice. "Andie's just being paranoid."

Dawson wouldn't give up, "What happened?"

Pacey got fed up. If Dawson wanted a damn story he would get one. "Ok. Threw a party. Got wasted. Fell and hit my head. Since when has it been a crime to have a hangover?"

Dawson's eyes cleared up. He bought Pacey's lie like he had so many times before. "It's just that Andie seemed so concerned. Well, I have to go. See you later, Pacey." He left.

Pacey hit his forehead in exasperation, causing a new headache. He had been on the brink of telling Dawson. He just couldn't. It was the same old thing. That learned defense mechanism that he couldn't overcome. He could have broken free of his life. But no. He might as well give up.

_But it was only a fantasy  
The wall was too high, as you can see  
No matter how he tried he could not break free  
And the worms ate into his brain_

Hey you, out there on the road  
Always doing what you're told, can you help me?  
Hey you, out there beyond the wall  
Breaking bottles in the hall, can you help me?  
Hey you, don't tell me there's no hope at all  
Together we stand, divided we fall 

_To be continued... _

E-mail [Gabrielle][1]

   [1]: mailto:comfortably_numb311@yahoo.com



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